Elizabeth's charm-string

Front matter

Book

GpightN 0

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT

Preface

In preparing the legends, many authorities were consulted and compared. The English translation of Voragine’s “ Legenda Aurea,” Butler’s “ Lives of the Saints,” the publications of the Folk Lore Society, compilations of legends for the use of students or of tourists,Mrs. Jameson’s “ Sacred and Legendary Art,” and, I may add, stories told to me by local guides in various cities of the Old World, were all sources of help.

Occasionally I found several versions — sometimes contradictory — of the same incident : in such cases I usually followed the accounts given by Mrs. Jameson, or by Miss H. A. Giierber, because the versions chosen by these authors “ are the ones upon which the Artists of the Middle Ages based their representations of the subjects.”

viii

C. B. F.

■s

Contents

Chapter Pack

I. A Disappointing Letter i

H. An Invitation to a Game of “Button,

Chapter 1 A Disappointing Letter

NE lovely afternoon in June, Elizabeth Staats and her particular chum, Alma Curtis, were sitting on the honeysuckle-covered porch of Mr. Isaac Staats’ pretty summer home. Their heads were bent over a letter bearing a foreign postmark, and its contents did not seem to afford them much pleasure.

“ Oh, dear ! ” exclaimed Elizabeth, “ I never was so disappointed in all my life.”

“ I do not blame you for feeling so,” said Alma, soothingly ; “ we have all got more buttons now than we know what to do with ”

“And charm-strings are all out of style anyhow,” continued Elizabeth. “ Every girl i i in school had one before Aunt Belle went to Europe. Really, Alma, I do not understand how Aunty can be so horridly stupid.”

Mrs. Staats, coming out on the porch just then, heard this last remark with much surprise, for she knew that “ Aunt Belle ” was usually an object of adoration to these twelveyear-old girls.

“ What is the matter, daughter ? What has caused your pet Aunty to moult her angelic wing feathers and develop a cloven foot so suddenly? ”

“ Mamma, Aunt Belle writes that she will reach America almost as soon as her letter, and — ”

“ That is a queer reason for such a woful countenance.”

“ But, mamma, you know Aunty promised to bring me something very nice from Europe. I was hoping for a little watch, and instead of that she is bringing me a whole lot of BUTTONS!”

(Nothing short of capital letters could do 2 justice to the emphatic utterance of the disappointed little girl.)

“ Buttons ! Why, my dear child, surely you must be mistaken. Let me see the letter.”

“I wish I was mistaken; but just listen mamma,” and finding the proper place, Elizabeth read aloud :

“ ‘ I did not forget my promise to bring you “ something nice.” I wanted the gift to be very unique and foreign-looking, and I was almost at my wit’s end trying to make a choice.

“ ‘ One day while I was in Rome I saw a little American girl with the most fascinating charm-string you ever dreamed of. I remembered, too, that when I left home you and most of your friends were busily collecting all sorts of buttons for charm-strings. I then and there decided to bring you, if possible, just as pretty a collection as this small girl carried.

“‘I am quite sure that your new charm- 3 string will not duplicate any of the buttons on your old one.’ ”

“ There, mamma, Aunt Belle says ‘ buttons ’ as plainly as possible ; ” and two big tears rolled slowly down the little maid’s cheeks.

There was a twinkle in Mrs. Staats’ eyes not altogether in harmony with this tragic situation, but she comforted her daughter as well as she could, and offered a ray of hope by saying, “ Perhaps, dear, they are military buttons. Do you not remember how Aunty used to rave about the grand uniforms of the Italian officers ? And I know every one of you girls coveted the United States Army and Navy buttons that Elsie Stone had on her charm-string.”

All in vain ; Elizabeth had so often boasted in school-girl fashion of the fine present she expected to receive from Europe, that the thought of answering “ Buttons ” when questioned about it was too humiliating.

But partial consolation did come in the 4 shape of old Caroline, the cook who presided over Mrs. Staats’ kitchen.

“ Miss Elizabeth ! Miss Alma ! ” she called, “ if you don’t hurry up and make your cookies and the chocolate fudge, it will be time for Miss Alma to go home before you get through.”

Off scampered the children, for “ messing ” in the kitchen with good-natured Caroline was their greatest delight, and they were soon too absorbed in the mysteries of mixing and baking to think any more that afternoon about Aunt Belle’s disappointing letter.

But that same night, before they dropped off to sleep, Alma in her city home, Elizabeth in the country, had anyone asked what it was that weighed so heavily on their minds, both little girls would have answered, “ Buttons.”

Chapter II

AN INVITATION TO A GAME OF “ BUTTON, BUTTON, WHO’S GOT THE BUTTON?”

M RS. STAATS and Mrs. Curtis had been friends since early childhood, and the warm affection between their little daughters drew them into still closer intimacy.

During the winter months the two families occupied adjoining houses in a bustling Western city.

Early every spring Mr. Staats moved his family to their charming country home, “ Shadyside,” about ten miles from town ; but the Curtis family usually flitted to the seashore.

Every summer the little girls were allowed to exchange visits, and many were the jolly times they had together.

They had discussed the “ Button ” subject over and over again, but never ceased to wonder “ what Aunt Belle could have been thinking about” when she decided to bring such a commonplace, prosaic present all the way from Europe.

They had agreed to say nothing more to the other girls in regard to the expected gift, until they had themselves seen the objectionable charm-string.

A few days before the summer holidays began, Mrs. Curtis received a letter from Shadyside over which she laughed very heartily. When questioned by Alma as to the cause of her merriment, the only reply she vouchsafed was :

“ You will find out next week. We are invited to Shadyside for a little visit, to meet Miss Belle Staats and see Elizabeth’s present”

A little note from Elizabeth to Alma was enclosed in the letter, but even this did not give any clue to Mrs. Curtis’ cause for laughter. It said :

“ Dear Alma, — Mamma had a letter from Aunt Belle which seemed to be very funny, but she would not let me read it. Aunty wrote to me saying that some of the buttons have lovely legends or funny stories connected with them.

“Mamma said I could invite several girls to spend a few days here, and Aunty is to tell us the stories. You will come, of course, and I have asked Genevieve Lebeau, Marie Gardiner, and Margaret Nelson.

“ I told the girls my present was to be some queer buttons for my charm-string. I thought it would be easier to write than to tell it.”

A few evenings later a very jolly party was making merry on the lawn at Shadyside. The centre of attraction was of course Miss Belle Staats.

She was a delightfully pretty young lady, about twenty-five years old, and had been spending the past two years travelling leisurely through Europe.

She had a large fortune of her own, artistic and literary tastes, and had devoted much time to the study of history and art; she 8 possessed a keen sense of humor, told a story admirably, and talked most charmingly about the places and things she had found most interesting, or the adventures she had met with, in her pursuit of pleasure and improvement.

She was particularly fond of her small niece Elizabeth, who in turn adored her pretty Aunt, and indeed Miss Belle was very popular with all Elizabeth’s best friends.

During the afternoon she had been showing to the children some of the treasures she had brought home with her, and had let each one choose a little souvenir from among these pretty things ; but not a word had been said about the charm-string.

The evening flew along on swift wings until ten o’clock, and then the children were sent to bed. As the little girls gathered about Miss Belle, wishing her “ Good-night,” she put her arm around Elizabeth and said 9 laughingly : “ Little niece, to-morrow morning at nine o’clock you are all to meet me in the hall, and we will have a game of ‘ Button, button, who ’s got the button ? ’ ”

io

Chapter III A Medici Button-box And Its Legends

T HE next morning the wind was blowing a gale and the rain falling in torrents ; every one was delighted to find a bright fire burning in the big open fireplace.

The five little girls were burning also with curiosity as to the possible contents of a queer-shaped parcel Miss Belle had placed on the hall table soon after breakfast.

ii

ElizabetUs Charm-String

“ If that parcel contains your buttons, Elizabeth,” said Genevieve Lebeau, “you will not have much of a string.”

“ Maybe it is the kind of a button the Mikado wears,” chimed in Margaret.

“ Or one of Queen Victoria’s collar buttons ! ”

“ Or the Pope’s cuff button ! ”

And so they all jested and laughed together.

As the old grandfather’s clock struck nine Miss Belle came slowly down the stairs, smiling at the expectant faces watching her.

She walked to the table, and as she began to untie the mysterious packet, poor Elizabeth clutched Alma’s hand and received a reassuring pressure in return.

There were two boxes in the bundle. One was round and quite small, covered with a peculiar-looking white leather, and its top was decorated with what appeared to be a monogram, colored red and green.

This, after a moment’s hesitation, was handed to Mrs. Staats, who made no attempt to open it.

The second box Miss Belle gave to Elizabeth, saying, with a happy laugh : “ There, little one, is your charm-string at last.”

The box was trunk-shaped, with a curving lid, and was covered with copper beaten into elaborate and intricate designs. Across the front and back ran a complicated pattern of fleurs-de-lis ; one end showed a wolf nursing two little children; the other displayed a tiara, or Bishop’s mitre, of peculiar shape, and beneath this two keys were crossed; in the centre of the lid was a shield bearing six balls and surmounted by a coronet ; the intervening spaces were beaten into dainty scrolls or flowers, and the keyhole was in the mouth of a grinning mask.

“ Oh, oh ! ” exclaimed Marie, “ what an oddlooking box ! ”

“ It looks as if it needed a dose of sapolio, * though,” said Alma, who was nothing if not critical.

“Yes, it does,” said Aunt Belle, “but what looks like dirt is really the discoloration of ‘ Old Father Time.’ It is claimed that this box was once the property of Pope Leo X, who belonged to the renowned Medici family of Florence.

% “ He was made Pope in the y year 1512 a.d., so if the story is true, the box will be four hundred years old by the time Elizabeth has jewels enough to fill it.

“ The fleurs-de-lis on the box typify the city of Florence, whose nickname is ‘ Lily of the Arno.’

“ The wolf nursing the two boys is part of the coat of arms of Rome. Surely, you all remember the story of Romulus and Remus, the twin brothers who founded Rome ? If you have forgotten it I must tell you about it another time.

“ The triple tiara with the crossed keys is the Papal coat of arms ; no one but the Pope ever wears that tiara, which represents the Trinity. It is said to be of pure gold and to weigh fifteen pounds.

“ There is a very old legend which tells us that Christ made Saint Peter the keeper of the gates of Paradise, and gave him two keys, one of gold for Heaven, and one of silver for Hell ; so in the mediaeval pictures of Saint Peter he is always shown as carrying these keys, and frequently wearing a tiara, because he was the first ‘ Universal Bishop ’ or Pope.

i5

“ The shield and coronet on the lid belong to the Medici family. There is a funny little story which tells why they chose the six little balls as the family emblem.”

The Medici Emblem

Long, long ago there lived in Florence a man who was of good family, but very poor, and although quite a clever fellow, he was too lazy to work, preferring to use his wits in finding easy methods of earning his living.

One day, while amusing himself in an old curiosity shop, he came across a queerlooking manuscript and took it home to read.

It turned out to have originally belonged to a physician, and, among other things, contained a prescription for compounding a certain kind of medicine, guaranteed to “ cure every ill that flesh is heir to.”

So this man decided that he too would be a doctor.

Accordingly, he made up a quantity of 16 these infallible pills, and travelled about the country in a leisurely way, selling the medicine to every one who could be persuaded to buy any of it.

He managed to gain quite a reputation because of the alleged cures made by his pills, and soon people were only too eager to purchase them.

One day there came along a stupid peasant who had lost his donkey.

He asked our doctor if his medicine could find lost animals.

The doctor assured him that these pills could almost perform miracles, and sold six of them to the poor man.

The peasant was directed to swallow the pills, and then wander in and out of the Florentine streets and all around the neighboring country for six days.

He was to think about his donkey all the time, and as he walked he was to cry aloud :

“ My donkey ! My donkey ! Good people,

Has any one seen my lost donkey ? ”

2 *7

Hunted for in this persistent fashion one could discover almost anything ; so you will not be surprised to learn that the ass was finally recovered.

The pills, however, received all the credit for this astounding performance and became more popular than ever.

At length the “ Doctor ” grew so wealthy that he concluded to retire from business;

he assumed the name of “ Medici,” founded a new family, and for his coat of arms adopted a shield bearsurmounted by a coronet.

By Florentines these balls are commonly known as the Medici “ pills.”

In the midst of the laughter that followed this story, Mrs. Curtis called out :

“ My dear Elizabeth, any time you want to exchange that box for the prettiest watch in town, I stand ready to close the bargain.”

“ Open it, dearie,” said Aunt Belle.

Elizabeth turned the key and lifted the lid. Alma was sitting so close to her that she also could see the contents of the box.

Both little girls gave one long glance at the shining object lying on its bed of pink cotton; then looked at each other, and the growing bewilderment in their faces brought a burst of laughter from the older ladies, and a chorus of “ What is it ? ” “ Let me see ! ” from the other girls.

Elizabeth lifted up her new treasure, and no wonder she looked amazed, for the 19 thought of such a charm-string as this had never crossed her mind.

To begin with, it was not a string at all, but a pin ; a slender bar of silver about three inches long, with a very strong clasp. Suspended from this bar were several fine silver chains, each terminating in a ring, and each ring holding a number of marvellously pretty gold and silver charms.

There seemed to be a whole menagerie of animals, and all sorts of quaintly shaped articles, of which the children were ignorant.

Elizabeth threw her arms around her Aunt’s neck, almost beside herself between remorse and delight.

“Oh!” she cried, “Alma and I thought you meant you were bringing me a lot of buttons for my old charm-string, and we called you silly and stupid, and were just horrid ; now the buttons have turned into all these pretty things, and how can you ever forgive us ! ”

“Your mother told me of the funny mis- 20 take you were making, and we thought it would be a good joke to surprise you with the real thing. We have had our laugh at you and Alma for your stupidity.”

The little girls examined the pretty charms closely, and poured forth so many questions that Miss Belle finally clapped her hands over her ears and cried out:

“ Dear me, what a racket ! One at a time, please. Suppose we all sit down, and then you girls can take turns choosing charms, and I will tell you the stories about them.

“You see I collected charms instead of souvenir spoons, and I tried always to find something that was directly connected with the place where I bought it.

“Elizabeth, suppose you begin. I ’m sure you must be disappointed at the loss of your expected buttons, so we will soothe your hurt feelings by giving you first choice.”

Chapter IV The Winged Lion Of Saint Mark

E LIZABETH turned over the little things almost caressingly, and after a minute’s hesitation her choice fell on a tiny gold winged lion, standing on a slab of silver. The left fore-paw was raised, and rested on an open book which had some letters cut irregularly on the surface.

“ Ah ! ” said her Aunt, “ that has so many stories connected with it I hardly know which one to choose. It came from Venice, and every time you turn around in that fairy tale of a city, you will see ‘ The Lion of Saint Mark.’

“ Saint Mark is the patron saint and protector of Venice, and the winged lion is his symbol. The sentence on that open book is the motto of Venice ; it is in Latin, and reads,

“ But how very odd it seems for people to choose a lion as a symbol for a saint,” said Marie.

“ Symbols of some description have been used since the earliest days of Christian art to represent different saints and martyrs. It would take too long to make you understand this fully now, but the symbol used always indicated something connected with the life of that particular individual.”

“ Did Saint Mark kill a lion, as Hercules did ? ” asked Alma.

“ No; there are several reasons for choosing the lion as the emblem of Saint Mark, but I will tell only the one I like best myself.

“ Perhaps you know that each one of the Evangelists emphasizes in his Gospel some particular phase of Christ’s life or character, and Saint Mark has often been called ‘ The Historian of the Resurrection.’

“ During the Middle Ages it was quite a general belief that the cub of a lioness was always born dead ; after three days the breath of the lion infused life into the cub, and this awakening of the young lion typified the resurrection of Christ.

“ So the lion was given to Saint Mark as his symbol, and because the angels, who are the messengers of heaven, are always represented as having wings, this lion is also winged, since he too represents one who brings us good tidings.”

“Saint Mark was not an Italian. Why was he chosen as the protector of Venice ? ” asked Margaret.

“ Thereby hangs a pretty tale, but, like so many Italian legends, truth and poetry are so closely interwoven that it is hard to 24 separate them. I am not telling you the history of Saint Mark, however, simply the circumstances that connect him with Venice.”

The Lion of Saint Mark

Saint Mark was a Jew, and was converted to Christianity some time after the Ascension of Christ.

Our story relates that he was of priestly descent, and under the Jewish law no man could be a priest who was deformed or disabled in any way. Accordingly, after his conversion, Saint Mark cut off one of his fingers, so that no matter what happened, his mutilated hand would make it quite impossible for him to ever again serve in any Jewish temple.

Saint Mark was a great favorite of Saint Peter, and was the latter’s companion on one of his visits to Rome.

Sailing along the coast of Italy, they stopped at Aquileia (called very often the “ Mother City of Venice ”), where Saint Peter founded a church, and made many converts to the Christian religion.

Continuing their journey, the legend says their vessel was stranded on one of the uninhabited islands where Venice now stands, and Saint Mark had a vision of the wonderful city to be built thereon.

Some time later Saint Peter sent Saint Mark back to Egypt, and when the ship passed this island again its speed was suddenly arrested, and an angel appeared to Saint Mark, and told him that some day his body would be brought to the city he had beheld in his former vision, and there placed in a marvellous church erected in his honor.

Saint Mark lived and worked in Egypt many years. He founded the church at Alexandria, which afterwards became one of the most celebrated of the early Christian churches.

Here he performed so many miracles that the Egyptians accused him of being a sorcerer, and on the feast day of their god 26

Serapis, sixty-eight years after Christ, he was seized and dragged about over the rough streets, until death put an end to his misery.

Saint Mark’s fellow Christians gathered up the poor mangled body, and he was buried in the church at Alexandria, where for several hundred years his remains were held in great veneration.

In the meantime, the city of Saint Mark’s vision had developed into a beautiful reality.

By the middle of the ninth century the Venetians had become very powerful, especially in the Eastern countries, and when they wanted anything, from a kingdom to the bones of a martyr or saint, they generally contrived to get it.

Relics of all kinds were bought and sold like ordinary merchandise ; there was a regular traffic in bodies and bones between Eastern and Western Europe, and, to judge by the number of them to be found in Venice, her citizens were greatly addicted to the collection of saintly bones.

At that time the Mohammedan power was supreme in Alexandria, and the Christians were persecuted in every possible manner.

Their lives were not safe ; their churches were destroyed ; their houses and properties were confiscated, and their most treasured relics were burned.

Some Venetian merchants who were trading in Alexandria begged the Christian priests for the body of Saint Mark, in order to save it from desecration.

After much persuasion the priests reluctantly consented to the removal of Saint Mark’s remains to Venice.

To get such a treasure as this away from Alexandria was quite a hard task, but the Venetians proved equal to it.

They knew that all Mohammedans have a very great horror of pork, considering it as unclean. Accordingly, they placed the remains of Saint Mark in a large basket, and covered it with swine’s flesh.

When any one tried to inspect the con- 28 tents of the Venetian loudly, “Kwawhich means word effectuto further in- The merway reached without much j basket was basket, its bearers cried sir, kwasir,” pork, and that allyput astop vestigations. chants in this their vessel trouble ; the hidden aloft and the long Venice was in the sails, journey to begun. A few days later there was a frightful storm at sea, and in the midst of it Saint Mark 29 appeared to the captain and directed him to lower all the sails and steer in a certain direction, or else the vessel would be driven against some hidden rocks.

The captain did exactly as he was told, and after the storm subsided discovered that the appearance and advice of Saint Mark had indeed saved the vessel from shipwreck.

At last the vessel reached Venice safely, and the holy relics were received amidst great rejoicings, and, with many splendid ceremonies, were placed in the chapel of Saint Theodore, which was part of the Ducal Palace.

Saint Mark was, of course, a much more important personage than Saint Theodore, so in order to sufficiently honor the great Evangelist, Saint Theodore was deposed, and Saint Mark was made patron saint of Venice instead.

This chapel of Saint Theodore was demolished, and a new church, dedicated to Saint Mark, was built in its place. This church 30 was in turn destroyed by fire, and apparently the body of Saint Mark perished with it

A grander and far more beautiful church was then erected, and it was consecrated in the year 1085 a.d.

During all these years of building, the place where Saint Mark’s body had rested seems to have been forgotten ; but the Venetians had never reconciled themselves to the loss of their beloved patron saint, and they determined to pray for a miracle to show where his bones were to be found.

A general fast day was appointed by the Doge, for the 25th of January, in the year 1094, and the people of Venice gathered together in the church and piazza of Saint Mark, and prayed fervently for a sign from God.

Imagine their joy when they beheld a trembling in one of the marble pillars, which presently fell to pieces, and displayed to the faithful petitioners the bronze chest which contained the blessed relics.

Now they repose under the high altar 3 * of the most wonderful church in the world, and among the marvellous mosaics which make this church so famous you will find pictured this legend of Saint Mark.

The body of Saint Mark was received at Venice on January 31 in the year 828 a.d., and for hundreds of years that day was celebrated with a solemn High Mass, which was attended by the Doge and all the Signory, wearing their official robes. Indeed, it is still kept as a feast day, but with little of the magnificent splendor which characterized it during the years when Venice reigned supreme.

This is the story of the little Winged Lion as I heard it, and you see him so often in Venice that you feel very intimate with him. Indeed, one of my pet treasures is an old brass candlestick, in shape like unto “ The Winged Lion of Saint Mark.”

“ Miss Belle,” said Genevieve with a laugh, “if you can tell us many more stories 32 like that, I think we will find our Sundayschool lessons about the ‘ Acts of the Apostles ’ much more interesting.”

“ If that is all you need, my dear, we will buy you the ‘ Lives of the Saints ’ to read.” X Every one laughed, for Genevieve’s literary tastes ran decidedly toward the “ Brothers Grimm.”

V

Chapter V The Lady’s Sand

N OW it is your turn, Margaret,” said Miss Belle.

“ I choose this little grain of wheat, set in silver,” replied Margaret. “ Wheat is certainly a queer article to find on a charm-string.”

“ In Holland that grain of wheat would probably be called ‘ The Lady’s Sand,’ ” began Miss Belle. “ Girls, do any of you know where the Zuyder Zee is?”

“ Yes, indeed we do,” answered Alma. “ It is on the coast of Holland, and three or four islands separate it from the North Sea.” 34

“ That is quite right, but I dare say that none of you have ever heard that the waters of the Zuyder Zee now roll and toss over what was once cultivated land.”

The Lady’s Sand

There is a little town called Stavoren on the coast of Holland; it is now little more than a fishing village, but according to the old legends it was once a prosperous and very beautiful city, protected from the ravages of the sea by a splendid system of dikes.

Many of the citizens were so enormously wealthy that they paved the floors of their palaces with gold; their walls were hung with the most expensive tapestries, and their furniture was covered with cloth of gold.

To gratify their own desires no expense was too great, but they paid no attention to the needs of the poorer classes, and treated their dependants like so many dogs.

There was a certain unmarried woman who was probably the richest person in 35

Stavoren. She owned countless ships and houses; her income was so enormous that she could not possibly spend it all ; but it never occurred to her to share this superfluity with the unfortunate people who had little or nothing.

In spite of all this wealth, she was very grasping and avaricious, and was always devising new ways to increase her possessions.

One day a very queer notion entered her head. Sending for her cleverest captain, she ordered him to take the largest ship she owned, sail away from Stavoren, and bring back to her a cargo of the most precious thing to be found in the whole world.